Мор - ученик смерти

           ’Icanpayalot.’

           ’MrsNugentwastellingmethisnewgirlislikelytobeworse.Arighthaughtyone,shesaid.Notthesorttolookkindlyonpractitionersofthesubtlearts,Ifear.’

           Kelismiled.MembersofthecourtwhohadseenthatsmilebeforewouldhavehastenedtodragGutwelloutofthewayandintoaplaceofsafety,likethenextcontinent,buthejustsattheretryingtopickbitsofmushroomoutofhisrobe.

           ’Iunderstandshe’sgotafoultemperonher,’saidKeli.’Iwouldn’tbesurprisedifshedidn’tturnyououtofthecityanyway.’

           ’Ohdear,’saidCutwell,’doyoureallythinkso?’

           ’Look,’saidKeli,’youdon’thavetotellmyfuture,justmypresent.Evenshecouldn’tobjecttothat.I’llhaveawordwithherifyoulike,’sheaddedmagnanimously.

           Cutwellbrightened.’Oh,doyouknowher?’hesaid.

           ’Yes.Butsometimes,Ithink,notverywell.’

           Cutwellsighedandburrowedaroundinthedebrisonthetable,dislodgingcascadesofelderlyplatesandthelong-mummifiedremainsofseveralmeals.Eventuallyheunearthedafatleatherwallet,stucktoacheeseslice.

           ’Well,’hesaiddoubtfully,’theseareCaroccards.DistilledwisdomoftheAncientsandallthat.Orthere’stheChingAlingoftheHublandish.It’salltherageinthesmartset.Idon’tdotealeaves.’

           ’I’lltrytheChingthing.’